


It's all relative

by ririsutty



Category: Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, Gen, Villain Tom Hiddleston
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ririsutty/pseuds/ririsutty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clare receives an unexpected phone call from her brother it sends her onto a path of danger and murder. But is she as unprepared for it as she makes out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was running so fast his lungs burnt. It sounded like they were snapping at his heels.

Concentrating on the fence in the distance he pushed his faltering legs to their peak. Once he was over that fence he was clear he had hidden his bike there. Ignoring the voices clawing the air trying to reach his ears he pushed the pain down and carried on. Finally he had his foot in the first link in the fence.

He fought back bile as his spent body fought to haul him up; fingers and feet desperately clawing for purchase. A small groan of relief left his body as his hand touched the apex. It was to be short lived as a hand grabbed his ankle and worked its way up to pull at his leg. He growled and kicked out with his other leg; he felt it connect with something and the other hand was snapped away. With one last push of adrenaline he hauled his body over and landed awkwardly on the other side. Cursing and rubbing his twisted ankle he was spurred on by the baying goons trying to get over the fence and after his blood.

Checking he still had his prize in his pocket he rummaged for his keys as he got to his feet. With one last look behind him satisfied that the burly men wouldn’t make it over he half ran and half limped to his motorbike. Pulling on his helmet he smiled with satisfaction; he had achieved his goal. He had beaten the son of a bitch and there was nothing he could do about it. The bike roared into life and the victor sped into the night.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The bastard was good, he should be he trained him. Tom brought down his hand so heavily on the desk it sent his paperwork scattering like ants. His blood was boiling every nerve taught with rage. Double crossing git! He raked a hand through his hair. The shit would have gone to ground it would be nearly impossible to find him. He had taught him well; but even the master still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He had his best people working on leverage as he liked to call it; any scrap of his life that he could use to lure him out of hiding. It had taken months and a scandalous amount of money to get that little piece of information; a sliver of guilty secrets that could topple a government and that smug bastard had it.

As he unbuttoned his jacket and sat down heavily in his leather office chair he remembered the day he had met the enigmatic Mr Benjamin Cornerstone.

_He strode into his office with an air of confidence that made it known he meant business. Tom had extended his hand as greeting and he had taken it and shook it firmly. He stood as tall as him and his well-tailored suit hid a strong frame beneath. Tom gestured for him to sit down. He gracefully owned the seat in front of him, his long legs stretched out and he tented his fingers underneath his chin. His eyes sparkled with a hint of childish mischief. Tom smiled at him as he pulled out his file from the stack he had on his desk. He had flicked through his resume before he had set foot in the office; he was impressed. Mr Cornerstone even rivalled him in some aspects. Tom took him through some of the work he expected of him; nothing seemed to phase the man. It unnerved him. That was the day he knew he would have to keep a close eye on Mr Cornerstone._

His reverie was disturbed by a polite cough.

“Have you found something?” he growled.

“I think you will find this rather interesting sir.” His employee smirked as he handed over the file.

“Excellent. That will be all.” Tom said dismissing him with a wicked grin.

As the man left the room he took a moment to savour the object of his enemy’s downfall; before opening the file and taking out a single photograph. It would seem that Benjamin had something to hide after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The white jaguar pulled up across the street from the unassuming bookstore. This was the place. Tom gripped the steering wheel and steadied his breathing. So Ben had a sister. His Intel people had found out she was called Clare Marston, 28, single, never been married, lived in a flat not 20 minutes away and worked at the ‘Book Cave’. He had seen her photo and smiled. She was attractive in a simple non-threatening way. She was well educated unlike her brother. The only trait she seemed to share with Ben was his cerulean coloured eyes, even the surnames were different. He had to tread with caution and trust his instincts and not his Intel on this one, too much was at stake. Reaching over to the other seat he retrieved his coat before getting out and locking the car. He pulled up the collar against the harsh Autumnal winds and crossed the road.

The bell above the door signalled a customer. Clare looked up from the stack of invoices to try and find her colleagues but they were nowhere to be found. Sam was probably out back having a crafty fag and James? God knows where he was. She sighed and looked to the door to see their latest patron.

He stood an imposing 6’2 ish, hands in pockets and cheeks ruddy with the cold. His short brown hair slicked back accenting his sharp features. Clare noted his attire was well tailored right down to his designer shoes. A polite cough brought her back to earth. She had been staring and the newcomer was now smiling at her. Clare blushed.

“Hi, feel free to have a walk around. One of my colleagues will be with you shortly.” She said trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Thank you.” He said looking her over and heading further inside.

Clare stood bewildered had he just checked her out? Shaking her head she returned to her paperwork. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the security monitor. She found her eyes wandering to it momentarily. The newcomer obviously knew what he wanted as he moved between the shelves with purpose. He was probably looking for the travel books, to read up on his next holiday. Clare watched the way he carried himself; shoulders back, head up and long glorious strides. She felt her face flush again. Crap! Where was her head at?

“Earth to Clare!” Sam said placing a steaming mug of tea in front of her.

“Christ don’t sneak up on me like that.” She said swatting him on the arm with the papers she had been trying to work on.

“Hey abuse in the workplace! Anyway brought you tea didn’t I?”

“Mm felt guilty for sneaking out huh? I thought you were giving up anyway?” “I did! For three days.” Clare laughed and afforded another glance at the monitor.

“Have you seen the hottie lurking in the classic literature section?” James came blustering over fanning himself.

“Where the hell have you been?” Clare asked.

“I was tidying the modern art section.” Sam and Clare both raised their eyebrows at him.

“What? Oh alright I was trawling twitter….. there was a great piece all about.” Clare raised her hand to stop him.

“Am I going to have to change the Wi-Fi password again?” she sighed.

“No sorry I will behave.” James gave her his best smile.

“Now then. We have a customer to attend to. So who gets the pleasure?” Clare said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Only one fair way to decide.” Sam said with a wicked grin.

“Best of three.” James said placing his hands on the counter.

Clare giggled this was so her time to win.

James Cotton stood before them practically salivating. He was a willowy 42 year old and was as camp as Christmas. His tweed suit was immaculately pressed and beneath lay a crisp white shirt and cravat. He looked the quintessential English gentleman, the poster boy for Horse and Hound. His mousey blonde hair swept form his face and held in place with industrial strength hair product.

Sam Howell on the other hand was deep in concentration. He was a poster boy for an 80’s rock band. His long dark brown hair brushed his broad shoulders made bigger by the faded band t shirt he was wearing. His ripped jeans had seen better days. Clare noted that at least today he wasn’t wearing the ones with the rip on the arse pocket. His battered biker boots completed his ensemble.

Clare sighed as they started to psych each other out. She pulled the hair tie from her wrist and put her long raven black hair back into a loose ponytail so she looked like she meant business.

“Right when you two have finished comparing dick size can we begin.” She said placing her hands on the counter top and staring at them.

“Ok call it!” Sam growled watching James intently. “3…. 2 …….1!” Clare announced.

Sam had rock, James scissors and Clare had rock.

“Damn it!” James cried.

“You are so predictable Cotton.” Sam laughed.

“Ok big boy its you and me!” Clare breathed looking at him with her best femme fatal stare.

“Using your feminine wiles against me won’t work Miss Marston.” He said readying himself but faltering slightly as he noticed the colour of her eyes shift.

“I don’t mean to disturb you but could someone point me in the direction of your Shakespeare?” A polite smooth voice interrupted their little game.

The boys turned around to see the newcomer stood patiently with his hands in his pockets smiling at them.

“Sure; take no notice of my slack jawed minions.” Clare smiled at him as she came around the counter and joining him.

“After you.” The newcomer gestured. Clare headed down the line of books smiling to herself. Shakespeare nice choice.

 

Tom watched as she walked in front of him. Her long black ponytail swayed as she walked, as did her ass in those sinfully tight jeans she was wearing. She wrapped her arms around herself as they got deeper into the shop. The cowl neck silver jumper not shielding her from the chill.

“So is it poems sonnets or complete works you are looking for?” Tom was broken from his admiring.

“I’m actually looking for a copy of Richard II?"

“Really?” she said coming to a stop in the furthest part of the shop.

Tom was impressed. The area contained not only an impressive array of leather bound works of the bard but plush sofas also. Small occasional tables were topped with tiffany style lamps and the walls bereft of bookshelves contained posters of various productions.

“Take a seat and I will try and find one for you.” Clare started to scan the shelves.

“It’s quite a cosy little space you have here.”

“A little too cosy sometimes. We sometimes have to drag people out of here.” She laughed resuming her search.

“I can see why. I can’t think of anything better than curling up on a sofa reading Shakespeare. Well unless it’s with interesting company that is.”

Clare felt his breath on her neck. She turned to find him next to her leaning against the shelves.

“Well whatever floats your boat.” She said moving away.

Tom smiled and sighed. “So what’s your favourite?”

“Oh I don’t know there is so many of them I couldn’t possibly choose.” Clare said her brow furrowing.

“Come now there must be one?” He had narrowed the gap between them.

His sparkling blue eyes held hers as he licked is bottom lip. Suddenly Clare didn’t feel so cold anymore.

“You have put me on the spot!” she said trying to keep her cool under his unwavering gaze.

“ _Once more unto the breech, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace, there’s nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war bows in our ears. Then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.”_

“Nothing like Henry if you ask me.” Clare gave a shudder.

He had been running his finger up and down the spines of the books but she felt like it had been hers. His voice was intoxicatingly smooth and eloquent. She felt a little light headed and turned away from him so he wouldn’t see her blush.

“Ahh here we go!” Clare shouted a little too excitedly. “Richard II.” She took the book off the shelf and handed it to him.

He took the book but held her hand.

“Thank you very much but you still haven’t answered my question?” he started to draw circles over her knuckles.

It was like someone was sending little electric shocks into her hand and up her arm. Thanks to the jumper he couldn’t see the goose pimples that were creeping up her body.

“I…. I have to say...”

“Clare sorry but there’s a call for you.” Sam called putting his head around the shelves.

She took her hand back a little too quickly and Sam noticed and smiled.

“Ok. Sam do you mind helping Mr?”

“Hetherington. Tom Hetherington.”

“Right Mr Hetherington. If you will excuse me I’m sure Sam can be of assistance.”

“It’s been a pleasure Clare.” He said extending his hand. “It has.” She said shaking it warmly. Tom took her hand and placed the ghost of a kiss on her knuckles causing her to blush.

When he released her hand she walked briskly over to Sam.

“Not a word!” she whispered and went to answer her call.


	3. Chapter 3

On the way upstairs to her office she could still feel his lips on her hand. Where the hell had he come from? He was most certainly trying to flirt with her. Perhaps he was one of those people that got off on wordy literature. She shook her head and picked up the receiver.

“Clare Marston.” The line crackled.“Hello?”

“Clare thank god!” a rather shaky voice came on the phone.

“Ben? Where the hell are you this line is terrible!”

“I’m on a business trip. How’s the book racket?”

“What do you want Ben?”

“Can’t I ring up my sister to see how she is?”

“You can if that was all you were doing!”

“I need you to do me a little favour?”

“Look I’m done with doing favours for you! Find some other fool to sort you out!” Clare shouted.

“Please sis I’m in trouble!” he pleaded.

“Ben you are always in trouble. Where you go it follows!”

“I’m sorry sis but this time I’m in deep shit!” Clare sighed.

“What have you done now? How much?”

“No no it’s not money.”

Benjamin Marston her big brother didn’t need money. That was a first. He only rang when he needed something. He was four years older than her though you wouldn’t think it as she was the one always getting him out of scrapes. He had inherited the good genes. Flawless skin, a body metabolism that didn’t allow him to put on weight but have good muscles, high cheekbones and curly hair. God must have used up all the good stuff before he got to her.

He worked as an insurance broker for some large firm in the financial district. Their parents had passed away. Their mum of cancer and father of a heart attack so they were all each other truly had. He had more women’s numbers than the telephone directory and spent many a night collecting more. She despaired. He was a disaster, but that disaster was her brother. With a sigh Clare wearily sat in her office chair.

“So if its not money you want Ben then what is it?”

“I need you to cover for me!” he said shakily.

“What?” Clare asked confused.

“There are people going to be looking for me and I need you to be careful.”

“What sort of people?” Clare was unsettled.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Ben I don’t understand what the hell have you done?” she demanded.

“I’m in deep Clare and I don’t know if I’m going to get out of this one.” His voice was beginning to crack.

“Ben for god’s sake please tell me what is going on?”

“I hope that I’ve covered my tracks well enough, they shouldn’t find you. Please promise me you will stay safe. Talk to no one!” Clare heard the wavering in his voice he sounded terrified.

“Ben I will I promise. You are really scaring me now; where are you? I’m coming to get you?”

“No no. You can’t I have to disappear for a bit. I will ring you as soon as I can. They are watching me. Love you sis!” the line went dead.

Clare sat in silence for a moment. Shakily she got up from her chair and headed back downstairs. Sam and James were in deep conversation as she re-emerged in the shop.

“You ok?” Sam asked looking up from his conversation concerned. “That Mr Hetherington was most taken with you; he left his card and said call him if you want to discuss the bard in more detail.”

“Has he gone?” Clare asked flatly.

“Yeah a few minutes ago. Who was on the phone?” Clare sighed.

“James put the bolts on the door and turn the sign and meet Sam and me upstairs.”

“Ok now you are freaking me out!” Sam said watching James lock the door.

“Upstairs now. We have a problem!” Clare said darkly.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on or are we to play guessing games again?” James asked haughtily.

“That phone call was from none other than Benjamin Marston. Sam I need you to find me a secure line and patch me through.”

“Right on it!” Sam said pulling up a chair and setting to work on the laptop.

“Benjamin your brother?”

“The very same.”

“So after all this time the little bollocks decides to ring you out of the blue?”

“Oi. That little… anyway he is still my brother.”

“Come on Clare what the hell has he done now?”

“Truth be told I don’t know. He just said he was in deep and to watch my back.” Clare said leaning against her desk and sighing.

“Christ!” James exclaimed. “Way to go Ben! What is it bring your shit home for your family week?”

“Clare we have an untraceable line.” Sam called over his shoulder.

“Here goes.” She said taking Sam’s place in front of the computer.

**ID: Greyhound 8 Agent Marston.**

Clare entered her details into the agency login screen. Moments passed as the computer analysed her details and the screen cleared.

“Agent Marston to what do I owe the pleasure?” The imposing figure of Director Allan filled the screen.

Clare shifted in her seat as her superior came into view.

Director Henry Allan had a look that could bring entire organisations to its knees. She had seen this man reduce even the most hardened agents to a mess of tears and heading back to their mothers. His tone quintessentially English. He had a voice like dark velvet mixed with chocolate, a voice that at once commanded attention and heated the blood. His greying hair untamed; framed his long distinguished face, his hazel eyes revealing nothing. His mouth formed a thin line and then displayed the slightest hint of a smile.

“Director. I have received a disturbing phone call this afternoon…..”

“I need you to come in Clare.” He interrupted.

“Sir?” “I have a matter to discuss with you Agent Marston and it needs to be addressed tonight.” his voice emphasised ‘tonight’.

“Ok sir we will be right over.”

“Just you Marston you can leave the boys at home, do they require a babysitter?” he smirked.

“I will be with you within the hour sir.” Clare dismissed.

“Good.” Director Allan signed off leaving them with a black screen.

“Cheeky git. Babysitter indeed!” James blustered.

“Ahh you promised the next time you went to HQ Clare you would take me! No fair!” Sam said crossly folding his arms.

“I’m sorry sweetie but mummy got to go and earn the pennies. If you are good you can stay up late ok?” Clare mockingly ruffled his hair.“If I had my way you two would be going into the lions den.”

“No thank you! He gives me the willies.” James shivered.

“Mmm. Not the way I thought I would be spending my evening. You guys lock up and head off home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Clare said grabbing her coat.

“It’s half price shots night at Rosie’s.” Sam wailed.

Clare took her purse from her bag and handed Sam some twenty pound notes.

“Guess you will be a woman down tonight for poker shots. Have a few for me.” Clare winked at him and headed downstairs and to her meeting.

 

As the doors opened Clare took her first real breath since she had entered the building. Exiting she took a moment to calm herself and collect her thoughts. The corridor beyond was eerily quiet. Offices lined both sides; all of them dark and empty. Clare tried not to stare into them as she quickly walked past. Something about being there at night made her uneasy. She was hundreds of meters below ground surrounded by dark empty spaces.

The guard opened the door inwards letting Clare step in. She heard it close behind her as she looked around the newly decorated office.

“What do you think?” Henry’s smooth voice came from somewhere to her left.

“It’s….. It’s very you!” she said caressing the back of the ox blood leather sofa in front of her.

“I will be sure to give my interior designer your approval.” Henry entered the room drying his hands after vacating his private bathroom.

“I wanted something a little more…. Classical.” He said dropping the towel on to the arm of the sofa.

“I didn’t think you would have time to read all these books?” Clare had decided to give herself the grand tour.

Every available wall housed a grand bookcase; each holding volume upon volume of leather-bound books. She looked at some of the titles. The classics were there; Shakespeare, Dickens, Conan Doyle, Austen and Asminov? She was impressed. Henry’s desk was obviously antique from the looks of its moulding and scroll work. It seemed almost a travesty to have a computer atop it.

“So did you ask me here to admire the décor or was it something else?”

“Please take a seat Clare.” Henry offered as he walked toward a cabinet set into the bookshelves.“Drink?”

“Not whilst I’m on duty director.” Clare said sarcastically as she took a seat on the sofa.

Henry laughed as he poured himself two fingers of scotch.

“Wise words.” He said taking the seat directly behind his desk.

He took a swig from his glass, savouring it for a moment and then put the glass down.

“How are you Clare?” Henry said sitting back in his chair and fixing her with a stare that burrowed into her very soul.

“I’m good thanks but something tells me you didn’t ask me here to mix pleasantries?”

“It’s been a while? You and your little band of merry boys have been keeping under the radar.”

“I think we more than deserved a break don’t you?” she said tersely.

“Yes well, that unfortunate business behind us…” Clare opened her mouth to protest but caught his glare and backed down. “I need you to look at these!”

Henry came around to stand in front of the desk and dropped a manila folder onto the coffee table between them.

“Let me guess they aren’t your holiday snaps.” She said gingerly taking the folder and placing it on her knee before opening it.

The first photo she came to was of the front of a warehouse. She dismissed that one and looked at the next and immediately wished she hadn’t. The picture was of a man who had been shot in the head. His soulless eyes leapt from the page. Clare swallowed and carried on sifting through the pile, each photo was more of the same; corpses.

“These were taken at a warehouse on the outskirts of Harrogate. Police were called when the security workers found them on their rounds. All in all there were six of them all shot in the head.”

“What were they doing there?”

“Intelligence gleaned that they were there to make an exchange. A short time ago there came on to the market a certain document of a sensitive nature.” Henry said crossing his arms across his chest.

“Aren’t they always? Why was this one so special?” Clare said swallowing and placing the folder on the table.

“This particular file has the ability to undermine the British Government and throw the country into chaos.”

“They seem to be doing a pretty good job of that themselves.” Clare said with a sarcastic smile.

“Just imagine if someone had all the access codes to all the army bases, weapons depots, banking systems, security systems hell even to Buckingham Palace. They would be able to go anywhere and start a war and we would be unable to stop them.” Henry said with a tone that sent a shiver down Clare’s spine.

“The document was stolen from Whitehall two days ago. Whoever stole it was going to sell it that night. We don’t know if they were disturbed or they got a better offer. We have security pictures on the day it was stolen and……” Henry moved back to the drinks cabinet and refilled his glass.

“And?” Clare asked.

“Your phone call today who was it from?” he said downing the contents of his glass in one shot.

“What?” she asked confused.

“You said you’d had a strange phone call who was it from?”

“My brother Ben.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he was in danger and that I was to be careful. Some people were trying to find him. I guess it was to do with his gambling problem, I was just concerned he sounded so frightened. I’d never heard him like that.”

“Clare your brother has always been a loose cannon, you can’t babysit him 24 hours a day.”

“I know I know.” she said shaking her head. “What has that got to do with this security footage?”

“I think you need to see for yourself.” Henry said solemnly going behind his desk once more.

Clare hesitated for a moment and then got up and followed him.

After a few moments of Henry getting into the protected file grainy footage appeared. They watched in silence as figures walked along the corridor at speed. He seemed to be looking for a certain portion of the footage and when he spotted it he slowed it down. Clare concentrated on the figures in front of her. In the packed corridor Clare saw a lone figure check out the security cameras and then swipe a key card and disappear into the room in front. She was speechless.

“Can you enhance it?” her voice trembled.

“Yes but you already know…”

“Do it!” she roared. Henry rewound the footage and pressed play.

The scene unfolded in front of them and as the moment arose Henry paused it and zoomed in. Clare’s breath caught in her throat. Standing in the corridor looking like he was staring right at her was her brother.

“Clare? Clare?” Henry said placing his hand on her arm.

Clare moved away from the desk in a daze.

“There must be some mistake Henry?”

“I’m sorry Clare I wish there were.”

“How the hell did he get mixed up in this? He works in insurance?” Clare said almost trying to convince herself.

“It would seem your brother has had a change of career. We are not sure who is working for but we will soon enough.” He said helping her into the chair.“Clare? Ben still doesn’t know about you?”

“God no. He couldn’t care less. All Ben is concerned about is himself, money and his next sexual conquest. I get a call from him once in a blue moon asking for money that’s it.”

“You said from his phone call he was scared?” Clare nodded still in shock. “It would appear then that he had a better offer than that of his employers. He is obviously on the run.”

“Fuck! That stupid bas…”

“Yes well…. Whoever paid him to get that document are going to want it back. He has a target on his back and a price on his head I would imagine.” Henry closed down his computer and leaned against his desk. “That is why you are not on the case!”

“What?” Clare asked bewildered.

“You are to sit this one out. You are too close to it. Besides Ben warned you to be careful. What if they find out about you? They killed those men what’s stopping them doing that to you?” he said moving to take the folder from the table.

“Henry it’s my brother we are talking about!” Clare seethed. “Yes he is a total prick and has put me and countless others in danger but…”

“But nothing Clare you are not under any circumstances to have any part of this case.” Henry sighed. “You have been through enough. You need to let this one go. We need to keep you safe too.”

“No!” Clare roared. “Director Allan I am requesting you put me on this mission. I am the best agent for the job and you bloody well know I am!” Clare stood before him her fists balled at her side.

Henry was taken aback at her sudden change of tone.

“Agent Marston. I can and I will revoke your status in this organisation. I recommend you stand down!”

“If I might add sir you played that hand before and look where it left us. My partner was killed in the line of duty because you had me arrested and my status revoked. The only reason that I am standing here now is because you need me!”

“No Clare you are here because I made it so!” Henry blasted making Clare flinch.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Clare said stunned.

“That’s all for now Agent. I will have a detail watch your flat and workplace.”

“Oh no you are going to tell me exactly …” “You are dismissed Agent Marston! I suggest you leave before I get security to escort you!” Henry bellowed as he stared Clare down.

Clare blanched and admitted defeat.

“Clare if I get one sniff of you on this case I will strip you of your status and throw your ass in jail quicker than….” She never heard the end of the sentence as it was muffled by his office door slamming shut.

She calmly walked back to the lift and hoped that the boys were still in the pub as she really needed to get hammered.


	5. Chapter 5

_The warm breath against her neck brought a smirk to Clare’s face._

_“What time is it?” she groaned._

_“Time you got that fine arse of yours out of bed.” The voice growled in her ear._

_“My very fine arse is too comfortable bugger off.” She giggled._

_An arm wrapped around her waist._

_“As promising as it is to stay in bed with you all day we both have jobs to do.”_

_Clare sighed. His voice; the Scottish lilt that made her weak at the knees wasn’t providing the best argument._

_“Just once do you think the world would miss us?” She pouted as she rolled over on to her back._

_He traced his finger from her collarbone to the sheet that was barely covering her chest._

_“I love this. This waking up to you every morning.”_

_Clare took his hand and placed it on her cheek. She looked into his deep chocolate brown eyes and they told a story all of their own. No one had looked at her like that before. She saw only compassion and truth._

_“Me too.”_

_“I hate all the sneaking around. Christ it’s like we are lepers.”_

_“Hey.” Clare ran her fingers down his cheek and he leaned into her touch. “It’s crazy I know but dems the rules babe.”_

_“Screw the rules!” Ross roared as he pinned her to the bed by lying on top of her. “Now I intend to screw you too before you make me breakfast.”_

_Clare laughed and was about to call him a cheeky git when he crashed his lips on hers._

_“I love you Clare….. beep beep beep.”_

Clare gingerly lifted her head. She found herself looking at her bedroom floor. As she rolled over her body seemed to act independently from her brain and she ended up in a heap on the floor.

 

“Bollocks!” she cursed as she nursed her bruised rear.

 

The beeping still acted as the soundtrack to her bad start to the day. Groping around wildly for the source her hand eventually connected with her alarm clock. After hitting it a few times her alcohol addled brain established it wasn’t the culprit. Clare slumped wearily against her bed. Her room seemed to be on spin cycle. What the hell happened last night? Her hand hit something on the floor that seemed to be vibrating. With a lot of effort she picked it up and through the fog she made it out to be her mobile and it was demanding her attention.

 

“Hello?” she croaked.

 

“Thank god. For an awful moment I thought you were dead.” James said catching his breath.

 

“James what the hell? I feel like I’ve been chewed up by an orc and spat out.”

 

“Well that’s probably an apt description.”

 

“Piss off not helping…..” Clare winced.

 

“Well if sleeping beauty is feeling up to joining us Sam and I are laying large amounts of money on the table as to who gets the honour of telling you exactly what went on last night.”

 

“You pair of tossers. I out rank you pricks.”

 

There was a long silence.

“There is video evidence and Sam has itchy you tube fingers.” James moved his phone away from ear to be saved from the expletives being spat down the line.

With a wicked smile James put his phone on the counter.

 

“Well?”

 

“She’s on her way and all bets are off you’re telling her.” James said over his shoulder before beating a hasty retreat.

 

* * *

 

 

The journey to work resembled a Disney movie. Sunshine, birds singing, happy couples smooching and lots of smiley people. Clare shook her head and instantly regretted it. Of all the times to run out of paracetamol today had to be it. She thrust her hands in her pockets after pushing her sun glasses up her nose. Sunglasses in the autumn she cursed although it was the only thing stopping her eyes being in a permanent painful squint.

 

As damage control she stopped off at the bakery a few doors down from the shop. Cake that always bought silence didn’t it. Whilst in the queue she checked her messages. Her fingers froze over the keys as she heard a familiar voice. It was Mr Hetherington. Tom.

 

“Shit!” she muttered under her breath.

 

Frantically she pulled her woollen hat down to try and cover as much of her face as possible and kept her head down. She heard him eventually pass her without a glance in her direction. She breathed a sigh of relief. She certainly didn’t need to run into him today. She had just about perfected the zombie movie extra look and wasn’t quite ready to share it just yet.

 

 

The bell above the door jangled Clare’s nerves. Her welcoming committee were in situ at the counter looking bright and breezy as ever. James made to speak but Clare stopped him and carefully placed the pastries and coffees before them.

 

“Peace offering and bribery.” She croaked.

 

Sam and James looked at one another and grinned.

 

“Did you get me a latte?” James squeaked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Skimmed milk?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No foam?”

 

“James for god’s sake just drink it or you will be wearing it.” Clare shouted loud enough to make her head throb.

 

“Sorry. I’m going upstairs to drink as much coffee as is humanly possible. Then you can tell me what the hell happened last night.”

 

 

 

Clare heard a soft tap on the door. She lifted her head from the desk to see Sam waving a white handkerchief.

 

“Is it safe?” he spoke quietly.

 

Clare managed to smile without being in too much pain and motioned him in.

 

“Was I really that bad?”

 

“If I said yes I would be lying. Whatever the boss said to you riled you up.”

 

“Christ! I saw Harry didn’t I?”

 

“At one point you threatened to rip him a new arse hole so I guess you did.” Sam said pulling up a chair.

 

“ARGH!”

 

“Was it to do with Ben?”

 

“Yeah oh he has fucked up royally this time.”

 

“I’d like to say that’s not like him but….”

 

“I know I know. Shit Sam what am I going to do? He’s dealing government secrets god only knows who to and he’s double crossed whoever he was working for.” Clare sat with her head in her hands.

 

“Holy shit Clare. I didn't think he had the brains to pull off something like that.” He said putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 

“You are not alone there. Now Harry won’t let me on the case after what happened with Ross……”

 

“I don’t want to play devil’s advocate here Clare but perhaps the director has a point. You were a mess.”

 

“Who knew watching your boyfriend killed in a car bomb explosion would do that to a girl.” She said sarcastically.

 

“Well it’s the truth! You were an out and out bitch!” Sam said stoically.

 

“I guess I was wasn’t I?” Clare said quietly as she ran her hand through her hair wearily.

 

“We wouldn’t have you any other way boss!” Sam said getting up from the chair to leave. “So what files do I need to hack into?”

 

Clare watched him smiling.

 

“Not this time hot shot. Where am I going to find another techie like you if we are busted?”

 

“Simple….. we don’t get caught.”

 

After consuming enough water and painkillers to make herself respectable she ventured back downstairs. James was practically salivating at the prospect of telling her what idiotic things she had done the previous evening. Her brow creased more and more and her stomach churned as the night was in parts recreated; even down to the failed attempt at pole dancing. In the end all was well and they were left laughing until closing time.

 

* * *

 

 

Clare had finished off the leftover pasta and changed for quiz night at the local pub. Given the hangover she had managed to survive she decided to forgo the alcohol for tonight. She took off her woolly hat as she opened the pub door and was immediately struck with the smell of beer and felt a little sick. After regaining her composure and throwing a cautionary glance to Carl the barman who smiled at her knowingly; she went in search of her teammates.

 

James and Sam were in their usual seats towards the back in the cosy corner by the fireplace. They seemed to be deep in discussion as she walked over.

 

“Evening!” she chirped as their heads shot up conspiratorially.

 

James was grinning like a Cheshire cat which made Clare a little unnerved.

 

“You guys not drinking either?” she said gesturing to the empty beer mats in front of them.

 

“We just finished one thanks.” Sam said kicking James under the table before he could say anything.

 

“So shall I get another round in then?”

 

“Erm it’s just….”

 

“Miss Marston how lovely you could join us.”

 

Clare felt the need for the ground to open and swallow her. She turned to see Tom standing behind her holding three pints of what looked like lager.

 

“Mr Hetherington this is a surprise.” She almost squeaked.

 

He brushed past her to put the drinks on the table and watched as he wiped his hands on his navy cable knit sweater.

 

“Please call me Tom.” he said as he ran his finger around the collar of his white shirt. “I don’t mean to be picky guys but do we really have to sit next to the fire.”

 

“It’s our lucky table we always sit here.” James pouted as he looked at his pint trying to hide his disgust.

 

“He wears the same underpants every week too you know.” Sam laughed.

 

“They haven’t failed us so far.”

 

“Now now children we have company.” Clare laughed. “Please Tom call me Clare.” She gulped as she turned to see him slipping off his jumper.

 

Tom laid his jumper over the back of his chair and smoothed down his shirt. Clare watched his long fingers roll back the sleeves to show impressive forearms. As Tom tidied his hair she noted the buttons seemed to be straining to keep closed, his shoulders threatening to burst through the fabric. Clare was brought back to earth with the sound of glass smashing on the floor. She looked over to see James had knocked over his glass and by the wide eyed look on his face Tom’s little strip show had been the cause.

 

“Oh shit sorry.” James said getting up.

 

“No harm done. Come on we will tell Carl and grab you another.” Clare said shaking her head.

 

“Here let me pay.” Tom said reaching into the back pocket of his jeans.

 

Clare noted he was struggling with his oh so tight jeans. She felt her face flush.

 

“No. Really Tom it’s ok. Besides you might give yourself a hernia trying to get your money out.” Her hand shot to her mouth in embarrassment. “Oh god did I really say that out loud.”

 

“Ehehehe.”

 

“Come on before you embarrass yourself anymore.” James said taking her elbow.

 

 

“Do I really look like I drink lager? Please!” James said rolling his eyes.

 

Clare looked around and when she decided they were far away enough from the others she clipped James around the head.

 

“Oi what was that for?”

 

“You pair of gits! What the hell is he doing here?” Clare growled trying to keep her voice down.

 

“It is a free country.”

 

“And in this free country he just happened to stumble into our pub; on our quiz night!”

 

“Well…..”

 

“I think you gits coerced him. What is this take pity on Clare night! I don’t need your match making skills thank you very much.” She raged waving Carl over.

 

“Come on Clare how long has it been?”

 

“None of your fecking business!” she hissed ordering a glass of wine and a vodka and tonic. “See what you two do to me I wasn’t drinking again tonight.”

 

“Dutch courage is it?”

 

“Piss off no!” Clare said drinking her vodka in one go and signalling for Carl to pour her another. “2 years.”

 

“What’s 2 years?”

 

“You know since I’ve been with someone else.”

 

“Shit! Boss we so need to get you laid!” James said over his shoulder leaving Clare in shock.

 

 

Tom proved to be an asset to the team and they broke their losing streak. As the night had worn on she seemed more and more relaxed in his presence. A few times she had caught him staring at her from across the table. He had smiled and carried on debating the answers with the boys. Clare found herself smiling again for the first time in what seemed like ages. Ross was gone and she had to get on with it.

 

The temperature outside had dropped she could feel it in her bones. Usually after the quiz they would pick up a take away and go back to her flat and watch trashy DVD’s. Tonight however all she needed was sleep. Pulling her coat around herself more she yawned.

 

“Are we keeping you up?” James asked as he pulled on his gloves.

 

“Just knackered, can we skip dodgy films and ever dodgier food tonight?”

 

“Sure. I thought Sam and I would give you a bit of space anyway..” he said smiling and motioning behind him to Sam and Tom who had just emerged from the pub.

 

“Don’t you dare! I am not taking him home!”

 

“James want to share an indian?” Sam chirped.

 

“That sounds great. I get to choose where though. I’m sure that the places you take us to are the reason in the decline in numbers of cats.”

 

“Oi! I have excellent taste.”

 

“Sam you have the vindaloo. It’s a wonder you have any taste at all!”

 

“Are they always like this?” Tom had come to stand behind Clare and was watching the show.

 

“Pretty much. Just don’t get between them when there is a last hob nob involved.” Clare laughed.

 

“So can I give you a ride home?”

 

“No thank you!” Clare said a little too quickly. “Oh god sorry that was so rude.”

 

She blanched at the look of horror on Tom’s face.

 

“It’s ok. I’m being a little forward aren’t I?” he said absently mindedly running a hand through his hair.

 

“Well my mum did warn me about getting into cars with strange men.” Clare smiled bashfully.

 

“Wise words. I mean I could be anyone. A crazed murderer, serial killer..”

 

“In those trousers?”

 

“Why what is wrong with these trousers?” he asked hurt and looking down at himself.

 

“Nothing but they do look like you jumped off the wardrobe to get into them.”

 

“Ehehe. Fair point. So how are you getting home? It seems that your work colleagues have left you to it.”

 

Clare looked around to see James and Sam’s back retreating into the distance.

 

“I live just around the corner it’s not far.”

“Oh right… well can I?”

 

“Thanks but I’m a big girl I think I can handle it.” Clare laughed.

 

“Ok I admit defeat.” Tom raised his hands in surrender.  “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

 

Tom looked at his feet feeling a little gauche.

 

“Clare can I see you again?”

 

“I …”

 

“I’m sorry its too soon I know.” Tom kicked an imaginary stone.

 

“Hey hang on. I was going to go with I would love to go for coffee some time.” Clare soothed.

 

“Really?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Great. You have my card? Give me a ring when its best for you.” He said bouncing on the balls of his feet like a teenager.

 

“Ok Duracell bunny I will.” Clare laughed playfully. “Night.” She said turning to walk in the direction of home.

 

“Clare?” she stopped and turned back around to find him right behind her.

 

“Good night.” He said lightly kissing her cheek.

 

Clare’s eyes shot wide open. Every nerve in her body had just fired and she blushed.

 

“Good night Tom.” She said softly and watched him as he jogged off in the opposite direction.


	6. Chapter 6

Clare slumped against her door. What the hell just happened? She hadn’t felt like that in…….. Too long. Her skin still tingled where his lips had left the ghost of a kiss. Tom had been a gentleman all evening, hell he had even put up with the terrible twins. He had bewitched the whole table, had them hanging on every word. She found herself smiling at the memory of him taking that jumper off slowly.  With a sigh she picked herself up and wandered into her kitchen.

 

She set down the mug of cocoa on her nightstand and climbed into bed. Propping herself on her pillows she picked up her tablet and decided to check her emails. Clare sighed when she found nothing but spam. Nothing from Ben; not that she expected there to be any. Her phone buzzed next to her. Reluctantly she picked it up and saw it was a text from James. Opening it she laughed. It was a picture with Sam holding the biggest Naan bread she had ever seen.

 

“Hope you have something hot and spicy to keep you company too?” read the caption underneath.

 

Clare smiled and sent a photo of her mug, before blowing on its contents and letting the chocolatey goodness warm her from the inside out. As she set her mug back down her phone buzzed again. She huffed and looked to see it was from an unknown number.

 

_Thank you for tonight. Sorry Sam and James dropped you in it. Personally I’m glad they did. Hope you got home safely. Please meet me for dinner one night?_

_Tom_

 

Clare stared in disbelief. The cheeky sods had given him her number. She cursed under her breath and typed out her reply.

 

_I’m sorry I don’t remember giving you my number. Oh that’s right my conniving little so called friends gave it to you. Please take pity on them when you see them begging on the streets._

_I did enjoy tonight. It made a change to win. Dinner is on the maybe list._

_Goodnight_

_Clare_

 

She put down her phone and closed her eyes. He was just being friendly. It had been a long time since Ross. She was reluctant to get back on the horse. Tom was nice, a little too nice. Clare shook her head. She was overthinking again. With a grunt she pushed her tablet aside and slid under her sheets. Her thoughts seemed to all lead to one place. Tom. She scrunched her eyes closed but his face was all she saw. Admitting defeat she let her thoughts wander until sleep finally claimed her.

 

Tom twirled his keys around his fingers. Clare was the total opposite of her brother. The evening had progressed well. He had gathered more Intel on her and her friends. Nothing was mentioned of her double crossing brother. That he would have to tread carefully with. If he showed his hand too soon he would never find Ben. He was going to have to stick around just a little bit longer. He smiled at the way she had fallen for his gentleman act. Perhaps he was getting a little too good at that. With a chuckle to himself he got into his car and checked his phone messages. His business partner had called probably wanting an update. Settling into his car Tom dialled the number.

 

“Thomas. Any news?”

 

“Matthew sorry I missed your call. I’ve been following a lead.”

 

“Splendid. So you’ve found him?”

 

Tom sat up in his seat.

 

“Not quite. I’m working on it.” He said through gritted teeth.

 

 

“Tsk tsk Thomas you must be losing your touch.” Matthew’s condescending tone made Tom bristle.

 

“He is good. Ben has disappeared. I taught him too well.”

 

“Yes your protégé has become quite the problem. I don’t need to remind you of that items value. You need to address this matter with the upmost urgency.”

 

Tom let out a long breath in frustration.

 

“My protégé……”

 

“Find him Thomas. I don’t care how you do it but find him. Time is ticking..”

Matthew had disconnected the call.

 

Tom cursed and hit the steering wheel. Ben would pay for landing him in this. He turned the ignition and the Jaguar roared like its namesake and disappeared into the night.

 


End file.
